His Children
by Blinded Moon
Summary: Life is far from perfect for Ginny Potter, when a few words, the names of her children, make all the difference. Will she leave the house she no longer calls home or will she sacrifice herself for children that barely seem to be hers? Book 7 Spoilers!


Author's Note: This story was inspired by the names of Harry and Ginny's children in the epilogue, which I thought left much to be desired.

**His Children**

I didn't even argue the first time. He said that he wanted James if it were a boy and Lily if it were a girl and I said fine. In my mind, I hoped for Fred if it were a boy and Molly, may she rest in peace, if it were a girl, but my needs didn't really matter then. I always thought to myself that I would give anything for him, that he was my one and only love, and other things like that which only appear in fairytales. Nothing around me seemed to matter and I was quite content with myself just sitting at home, letting the days pass while his James or his Lily grew in my body. I was kidding myself back then.

And soon enough, he arrived: James Remus Potter, in the flesh. He had red hair and freckles, almost a twin of one of my brothers. It would've been so fitting to have his name be Fred, especially as he grew older into more and more of a troublemaker. But Harry had promised me that he would give me more children, though I had taken the word "give" a little too figuratively and remained optimistic.

When our doctor's head burst from the fireplace to tell me that I was pregnant again, I was so filled delight that I nearly dropped James out of my hands. Finally, I would be able to have a child to really call my own. I ecstatically told Harry at dinner, and he seemed just as excited as I was. Until we started discussing names.

"Alright," he said, contemplating, "I still think we should have Lily if it were a girl…I'll think of a middle name later…and Albus Severus if it were a boy. I was really thinking about the latter, though, you know? I mean, a boy named after two of Hogwarts' greatest headmasters. What do you think?"

_What do I think?!? I think that's absurd! Even if he had thought of the most saintly names possible, I still wouldn't forgive him. And _Severus_?!? Sure he sent the doe and was secretly a "good guy" but what does that matter if it's a man we both hated through his whole life? This is _ridiculous_! Ugh…calm down, Ginny. Don't overreact._

"Honey," I replied in a voice that almost seemed too calm and sweet, "I thought maybe…I would be able to think about names for this one." _Surely he'd let me choose when it comes down to it. Right?_

"I know, but think about it!" Harry stood up, excited for his next-of-kin. "A child named after bravery. After honor! Besides, these were two people who were very important to me in life, who've really inspired me to go on. Don't you understand?"

"Sit down, Harry," I murmured. I didn't understand at all. "I think we need to really sit down and talk about this. After all, this really means—"

"What's the need for talk? It goes without saying. I really think—"

"What about me?!?" I yelled. It came out a bit stronger than I had liked it to, but it made him listen. "Harry, you got to name the first child, and his first, middle, and last name are all yours. Let me at least name this one! Frederick Albus Potter. It really does roll off the tongue and Albus is there too."

"What about Severus?"

"Harry, I know that he really helped you, but he was really quite…cold to you, to both of us, all through his life."

"He didn't mean it that way, Ginny! Didn't you see his memories! Why don't you understand me?

"You need to understand me! Sure, I saw Snape's memories and I know his true intentions now, but don't you think Fred needs some attention too? I knew him and I loved him. He was my brother, Harry."

"Sure, Gin," said Harry, more soothingly. He came to embrace me, but he didn't pull me in all the way. I cringed as he continued. "But look. This surely won't be our last child. Right? Didn't you say that you always wanted at least four? Just…let me have this one name. Albus Severus, it means a lot to me."

Maybe a normal housewife would stop right there and agree, but I pulled away. "No, Harry! I carried an entire child for you and let you give it whatever name you want! I deserve to name this one! Frederick Albus Potter!"

"NO!" Harry yelled, his hand knocking a glass of firewhisky onto the floor. It shattered at impact. I couldn't believe Harry would raise his voice like that, much less throw our finest china to the floor. The edges of the room seemed to fade a little and I wondered if he'd performed wandless magic on me. For the first time, I was worried in Harry presence.

"Okay," I whispered, "Calm down. Albus Frederick Potter. How does that sound? After all, I'm carrying this baby and I at least deserve—"

"I'm the one making the money for this child. Albus Severus, and that's _final_!" On the last word, I cringed, worried that another dish would crash. Instead, he just stared at me with an odd face of contempt before stalking upstairs. I fell to the ground and the tears started falling before I even felt them. I'd been with Harry for years, but I'd never seen him like this. Sure, he was stubborn as an ox, but never so much to get violent with his own wife. More tears came as I looked at my stomach, carrying a child that no longer seemed like mine. _Why do I care so much? __It's just a name_. I repeated that last sentence for the eight remaining months, before Albus Severus Potter was born. I wasn't smiling in the moving photograph on the mantelpiece of me holding him up for the first time. He looked just like his father, and I made a silent prayer every day that he wouldn't end up like him.

_He is the last_, I told myself. I wouldn't have to suffer anymore, right? Wrong. One night, I'd gone out to eat at a lovely joint with Harry, Ron, and Hermione and I'd taken in a bit too much firewhisky. Harry had as well, and even began serenading me right in front of the entire restaurant. In my drunken stupor, he looked younger and his voice was more beautiful than the song of the Phoenix. I succumbed to the alcohol and it's false love and told myself that night that there would be no harm.

I regretted it when I woke up the next morning. I tried so hard to forget, sometimes even Confunding myself with my own wand to push the memories away. I didn't go to the doctor at all, afraid of what news he would bring. Looking back, I saw how foolish this was, but I had been driven insane by the horrible prospect of another one of his children. I obsessively threw myself into raising the ones already born. James was quite the troublemaker, always crying, but something about him was charming and he remained my secret favorite through these years. Harry always claimed to like Albus, but I didn't. I was worried that my opinions were being swayed by names, just a few letters, but I couldn't think it through without a sinking feeling appearing in my heart.

Four months after the "Night-That-Shall-Not-Be-Named" as I referred to it, Harry noted that I'd been putting on a little weight. I burst into hysterics, denying him wildly until I opened my eyes to the fluorescent lights of St. Mungo's. The doctor came in and told me exactly what I didn't want to hear.

It would be a little girl. The moment we got home, Harry began speaking joyfully about how he would finally have a dear Lily Potter. I wanted to lash out at him, cast the Cruciatus curse, pluck out his eyeballs, but the medicine they had given me for my trauma had numbed my feelings. Instead, I just moaned feebly and collapsed on our sofa.

Harry came over and joined me, putting his arm around me. "Look, Gin. Everything will be alright. You can choose the middle name for this one."

_A middle name_. I thought for a moment before I spoke. "I have the perfect one. Lily Riddle Potter." A sick smile appeared across my face and I fed off the odd delight I received. "Or if you want something more feminine, how about Bellatrix. Lily _Bellatrix_ Potter really rolls of the tongue don't you think?" I was on a roll now, high off the sickly sweetness. I stood up and stared into his eyes, the green there slowly burning brighter and brighter. "Or how about just _Voldemort_! Lily _Voldemort_ Potter! I'm sure that everybody will just beam when they hear that our daughter's name is Lily _Voldemort_ Pot—"

I'd failed to notice that the green in his eyes had brightened into something that seemed more like red. I'd failed to notice him stand up and raise his arm. I didn't notice the impact until I was on the floor, watching the ceiling spin in circles above me. I felt my cheek begin to swell. He stood over me, his face apologetic, but I could not look at him. I turned my face to the side, but I was unable to hide the tears. He wasn't sure what to say for a few moments, opening and closing his mouth once every few seconds, but no words of his could alleviate the pain. There are some places where words can make a difference, but sometimes, no combination of letters can heal you.

I walked for the door and he followed. "Gin—Gin please listen to me. I—I—I can't believe…I would never…I'm so sorry…please just listen to me Gin—Gin! I…I still love you. I love you."

I kept my eyes on the floor as I turned around. He raised his wand and I gasped, shutting my eyes, but he only cast a healing charm on my cheek. But it wasn't the physical pain that hurt me so much. "I need a moment to myself," I whispered, pulling on a cloak. He nodded. "I…I love you too, Harry." I stepped out on the doorstep and disapparated.

Nobody living could give me solstice, so I appeared in a graveyard. I lit my wand and strolled through the labyrinth of tombstones. It was then that I realized why those names mattered so much to me. In that single final sentence I'd spoken to Harry, one missing letter, a "d" after love, had differentiated between true and false, light and dark. I looked around me and saw all of the names that surrounded me, those few words marking an entire lifetime. For the first time, I began to weep before I'd even reached the graves of those in my family.

I looked down at the two stones, murmuring an apology for allowing Harry to destroy their memory. I knelt at Fred's first and waved my wand. A single rose fell out of it, and I smiled to myself through my tears, knowing that he probably would've preferred a toilet seat. I then turned to Molly's. I barely had enough in me to pause my sobbing for a moment, but after a few tries, I was able to create a bouquet of lilacs for her grave. I looked down and read the epitaph for the hundredth time.

_Here lies a woman hopelessly devoted to the wellbeing of her children_

I sighed as I read it, knowing what I would have to do next. Since I couldn't keep my mother alive through my children, I would have to keep her alive through myself. "She would want me to stay with him," I whispered to myself. "I owe it Molly; I owe it to the children." I gave the grave a last look before turning and walking away from the graveyard.

With all the power in me, I disapparated to the house that was no longer a home, where he and his children waited. _Not his children,_ I thought to myself. _My children_.


End file.
